Scars of War Part II: What Do You See In Me?
by fencejumper89
Summary: This is the second part of Scars of War. Liesel and Max s relationship moves forward to a very special and intimate moment.


SCARS OF WAR PART II (WHAT DO YOU SEE IN ME?)

The camp commander stands at one side, the doctor at the other.

"More buckets!", they yell. Max is sitting in a tub of icy water. Other prisioners in striped uniforms hurry over. They toss more buckets full of ice cubes into the tub. Max freezes, he cannot take it anymore, he cannot feel his limbs. He´s sure this time he´s going to die. He faints.

He screams. He wakes up.

It´s dark all around him. Liesel has woken up before him, she presses her hand against his chest.

"It´s alright, Max. I´m here, I´m here..."

"Liesel, I´m cold", he says.

"No Max", she replies as she feels his body bathed in sweat "you´re safe".

Winter and spring passed and the summer found Max and Liesel very much in love.  
Life continued amongst the reconstruction of the country, the american occupation and the slow and sometimes stagnating recovery in their own personal lifes.  
Hard work and rutine helped to keep their minds away from terrible memories, but it was ultimately love what made them both rebuild a life that had been stolen by Hitler.  
Nightmares were still inevitable, they would visit them for many many years. They remained unspoken off.

It was a fine sunday. Max and Liesel walked hand in hand through the town towards the Amper river, where Liesel had often gone with her Papa to learn to read, to see him play the accordion.  
The day was lovely and warm. They always avoided passing anywhere near Himmel Street, or what was left of it...the street had never been rebuilt after the bombing.  
Liesel was telling Max about the time she walked these streets with Mama's washing and how she had risked to flip the basket, when they accidentaly came to the corner of Munich Street. Of course, being the main street of the town, it was hard to go around it. Memories of a parade came back to Liesel's mind. Max's steps slowed down and she felt his hand get sweaty.  
"What would Papa do?", Liesel thought. Of course, it was so obvious.. "Give him a piece of sky", she heard Papa whisper to her ear and she remembered one of the thirteen presents she had given to Max when he lay sick in her bed. The girl looked at the sky that was a perfect blue today. She lifted her free hand and pointed out a round, plumpy cloud.  
"What would you say that one looks like?", she asked Max. He looked up, following her finger.  
"Hmmm...I'd say it looks like that deflated soccer ball you once gave me as a present!", he said and he laughed.  
"What? No! It's clearly a sheep, don't you see? Look closer", she had to laugh aswell. They kept looking at the sky, nearly tripping over a stone for that. And they were way passed Munich Street when they ceased laughing. The weight was lifted from Max's shoulders.

You had to love Liesel for that, and she had Papa to thank for that.  
They spent the entire day laying in the grass under the warm end-of-summer sun, watching the river go by, telling stories, remembering old times. Gentle kisses were exchanged.  
"Max, do you love me?", Liesel asked, watching the sky.  
"Madly", he replied.  
"Do you think I'm beautiful?"  
"The most beautiful thing in the world...why do you ask?"  
"I just like when you say it..."  
Max picked a daisy and put it on top of Liesel's right ear, holding back her messy golden hair. She looked lovely in her worn out navy blue dress. He leaned forward and kissed her lips. She hugged him, she leaned back pulling him over her body and they rolled a few meters across the grass, like a wheel of entangled human limbs. It stopped with Max on top of Liesel. They looked at each other, both feeling the need to be even closer, as close as it can get. They smiled and laughed, like they knew exactly what the other was thinking and they were both thinking of the exact same thing.  
Liesel wondered how many girls Max had been with before. She wondered if she would be good enough for him when the time came. Would Max like her if he saw her naked?, she thought. She considered herself too skinny and bony compaired to other girls , let alone grown women.  
She kissed Max and he replied her kiss, he could not get enough of her. She was glorious. He wanted her so bad, he could almost not contain it. But he was just as unexperienced as Liesel was, and the same doubts troubled his mind. What would she say when she saw him naked?  
Slowly they got up. It was getting dark and they headed home, enjoying the sunset, both quietly lost in thoughts.

A new week began and the heavy monday was there again.  
Max had just left the bank after a hard day of work and was now waiting at the train station. All he could think of was Liesel, he couldn't wait to get home to her. In fact Liesel was the one thing what kept his mind busy during the day. He would think about her whether she was at his side or not. There was something about her that even words would fail to describe. To Max she was an angel, one with worn out clothes, messy hair and wings made of stolen books' pages...  
Max stood next to the tracks, daydreaming and smiling when he suddenly found himself sorrounded by a hostile group of young men. They were three...and they were drunk.  
Max felt threatened and tried to walk away from the spot. One of them, the taller one blocked his attempt of escape.  
"Where do ya think ya goin'?!", he said half laughing. The man had terrifying crystal clear blue eyes and an awful smell. He grabbed Max by his arm, "You damn Jew, you...I thought Hitler had taken care of ya swines!"  
Max tried to pull back, but the other two jumped in. The taller one landed a punch in his stomach and the Jew lost his balance, falling hard on the cement floor. He tried to fight back, but it was useless. He took in punch after punch, trying to shield his face with his arms.  
He couldn't distinguish what they were yelling, he just knew it suddenly stopped and the drunk men rushed away, not without cursing him first.  
Appearently a police officer that was passing near the scene had scared them off. He didn't approach Max though. He just looked at the man on the floor briefly and then continued his round as if he hadn't seen a thing.  
It was an elderly man that hurried over and reached his hand out to Max. He helped him back on his feet.  
"Are you alright young man?", he asked with a concerned expression. Max nodded, cleaning the blood that was dripping from his nose. The man collected Max's bag and various things that had fallen out of it and gave them back to his owner.  
"Thank you, sir", Max said, clearing the dust from his suit. He was a mess.  
"Are you waiting for the train?", the man asked.  
"Yes', Max replied "the one to Molching Station".  
"Well that's the same place I am going. Let me accompany you."  
The old man sat together with Max in the train and talked to him all the way to Molching about the most trivial things. Max was thankful not to be alone in the train that evening. His body ached in every inch and blood stains were all over his suit.  
They got off at Molching Station and Max said goodbye to the kind man, thanking him again.  
He replied with a sad smile.  
"It was my pleasure, son".  
Max walked towards home, turning around one last time to catch a glimpse at the stranger who had been his standover man that day. He was getting on the train back to the same direction where they had both just come from.  
This was an uncommon German, Max thought, and he felt grateful that such people still lived in this country.

At home Liesel was cooking or at least trying to cook something like a soup. She grabbed a spoon and tried a little bit. It was so bad that it honored the memory of Rosa. Liesel had to laugh at that thought.  
Luckily there was some bread and that would distract from the taste of the soup and make it less unacceptable...although Max always told her it was delicious, she knew he lied, that Saukerl.  
Liesel heard Max come in and put down his keys on the table.  
"Hi Max!" she called out while she took the soup from the stove. There was no answer. "Max?" She walked to the hall and found him sitting down on the couch."Jesus, Mary and Josef!". Max's trousers were torn at the height of the knees and he was bleeding through the fabric.  
"It's nothing Liesel, I only tripped over the stairs and fell", he tried to calm her. She kneeled in front of him to take a better look. She saw his hands were also scratched.  
"Don't take me for stupid, Max. Who did this to you? Were you in a fight?".  
Before he could reply, Liesel fetched a piece of cotton and some alcohol. He winced when she cleaned the scratches.  
"There was no fight. I wish there had been though..." he said with a low voice.  
"What's that supposed to mean?", Liesel asked and her tone, like her soup, resembled that of Rosa Hubermann.  
"It was some drunk men at the train station. They somehow knew I'm a Jew I guess." Max looked only to the floor as he spoke. "They wanted trouble and I couldn't fight back. It was three of them..."  
He had been a fighter all his teenage life and he had never backed down even when he was outnumbered. But he had learned from Dachau that sometimes you can only take the beating, if you want to live. In the camps fighting back meant suicide. You might aswell just run against the wire fence and end it all.

Liesel prepaired the bath tub for Max. He took off the mess that was his suit and washed away all the dust and blood from his body. The hot water burned on his wounds.  
Liesel knew the suit was ruined, she would have to ask Alex Steiner to help her sew a new one.  
Max went to bed without eating dinner. Liesel had bandaged the wounds on his knees and she watched him for a while as he slept...the eternal standover girl.  
She felt immensely sad and worried about Max, she was frightened that someone might hurt him.  
In a strange way the war was still not over... maybe some things had taken hold in people's minds and hearts and they would remain long after Germany had capitulated.

The next days Max tried to act normal, tried to forget the train station incident. He especially didn't want Liesel to worry.  
And Liesel pretended she didn't. She hid the fact that there was a knot in her chest every morning when she said goodbye to him. She understood Max. She could imagine how if felt for the Jewish Fist Fighter to be unable to deliver punches. She thought of herself waking up one day, mude, unable to deliver words...

Soon enough it was friday evening again. Liesel was cooking something better than pea soup this time. At least it looked better.  
"Dinner is ready, Max", she called. He was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper. "I'm not hungry Liesel. I'll pass", he answered. It was not the first time that week, that he refused to eat. In fact, he had eaten very little or even nothing the last days.  
He walked over to her and kissed her cheek. "Thank you Liesel, but I think I'll go to bed".  
"Max you need to eat something. At least a little. If you like I can cook something else" she said, almost begging.  
"I really don't want anything Liesel", he reassured.  
"Are you feeling alright?", Liesel asked, lifting her hand to feel his forehead.  
Max caught her wrist and stopped her. "I'm fine Liesel", he said, suddenly raising his voice at her. His grip hurt her wrist "I'm fine and I don't need you worrying about me all the time. Please just leave me alone!".  
Liesel pulled back her hand to release herself from Max's grip. She looked at him with disbelieving eyes. He had never spoken to her like that. He frightened her. She took a step back, appologizing and then rushed to the bedroom, closing the door. She threw herself on the bed and quietly cried herself to sleep watching the wall she had painted for Max.  
Max did not move from his spot. He had not intended to hurt Liesel and he was surprised at his own reaction. He wanted to go to Liesel and say he was sorry, but something stopped him.  
He slept on the couch that night with no blankets and no pillows and without the Book Thief's kiss.

Liesel woke up very early the next morning and got ready for work. She wanted to leave before Max woke up. When she walked through the hall she found the dinner table untouched, the food cold and stale. Max was sitting up on the couch. She avoided to look him in the eyes. Max's heart felt heavy in his chest. He knew Liesel's features when she was angry, and he would have prefaired that rather than the mix of fear and sadness that was written all over her pretty face. He wanted to say something, but she murmured a goodbye and was already gone.

It was a rainy saturday. Alex Steiner had asked Liesel to help him out with a large order of suits that needed to be delivered on monday. So Max had a lonely day at home. He didn't feel like going out. To say the truth, lately he was somewhat frightened to go outside, especially when he was on his own. When Liesel walked by his side he felt safe and she always held his hand, pretending she didn't notice.

Ilsa Hermann usually visited on weekends. When the rain calmed down enough, she made her way to Max and Liesel's place. She knocked on the door and was greeted by Max.  
"Hello Frau Hermann, please come in". He took her coat and invited her to sit on the couch. He was always so polite.  
"Liesel is working today. She will be back in the evening", he explained.  
"Oh, well nevermind. I just wanted to bring you this", she said and handed him a wrapped apple pie. "You know, its not very motivating to cook only for myself now that my husband is working in Berlin..."  
She was lonely and she loved to spend a little time with her "kids", as she called them.  
"Thank you Frau Hermann. It looks delicious", Max said. The woman watched him as he prepaired tea and and cut the pie. He sat down on the on the seat next to her and handed her a steaming cup. She noticed Max's swollen eyes. He had been crying.  
Ilsa put her cup down and let it cool on the table. She reached her hand out and gently touched Max's arm. "What is it my dear?"  
"It's nothing Frau Hermann. Some days are just difficult, that's all...", Max replied and he avoided to look the woman in he eyes.  
Both ate quietly for a while. It was Max who broke the silence. "Sometimes I miss her..." he said while he took the photo frame with his mother's picture from the shelf. "I miss her so bad, it almost hurts...and I never even got to say goodbye..."  
Ilsa Hermann leaned forward and took Max's hand, gently squeezing it. "It was not your fault, Max. There was nothing you could do..." she said softly. But she was a mother that had lost a child and this was a child that had lost his mother. She knew there were no words that she could say that would give him comfort.  
"I would have liked to burry her at least". Max's words were like a knife cutting open an old wound. She had blamed herself for so many years after her son had died. She punished herself for letting him go to war, for not finding his dead body, for being alive instead of him...she could only imagine what this gentle young man had suffered and what he was still going through, knowing that his mother had been murdered and tossed into a mass grave, burned...there was nothing even left of her to be burried.  
"I should have stayed with her", he said burrying his face in his hands.  
The woman was quiet as she saw her own pain and guilt reflected in Max. She breathed in deeply before she spoke again.  
"No Max. By staying, you would have died. And no mother would ever drag her own child down the abyss with her, not if she has the chance to save him! She loved you, Max, you were her baby. You must honor your mother by going on, so that her sacrifice was not in vane", she took Max's hands in hers and looked him in the eyes now "...And you need to be strong for Liesel, Max. That girl loves you so much, I have never seen anything like it...she needs you".  
Max bit his lip and nodded. How selfish had he been. Liesel had also lost everything in the war, she also suffered, she also nightmared. And yet she always put his needs before her own.  
"I don't want to hurt Liesel. I don't want her carrying my burden...but she does, she always does...", said Max.  
"You must trust Liesel, Max. Don't close yourself up. It takes courage to endure pain in silence but it's also courage what it takes to share it with others."  
Max listened attentively to Ilsa Hermann. It was hard to believe that this woman had been a memeber of the nazi party.  
"The world needs to hear your story and that of your people. If you don't share it, who will bare whitness of the things that happened?"  
The question remained in Max's head long after Frau Hermann had left.

Liesel came home when it was already dark. Max had turned off all lights. Liesel put down her things, she entered the bathroom and tried to rearrange her and for the first time ever she applied lipstick. She watches her figure in the mirror. Her body was only slightlt more developed than it had been when she was thirteen. She looked into her own what-am -I-getting-myself-into face.  
"To hell with it, it's all I've got", she thought and turned off the light.  
Liesel entered the bedroom, it was very dark but she noticed Max laying on the bed, still dressed. He had fallen asleep with a book in his hands and did not hear Liesel come in.  
"Max?" she whispered, softly touching his hand. He awoke.  
"Liesel...hello. What time is it?", he asked disoriented.  
"Late", was all she said and she placed a soft kiss on his forehead.  
Max sat up, his feet touching the floor. He took Liesel's hands, she stood in front of him.  
"I am sorry about last night", Max said "Please forgive me. I didn't mean what I said", he kissed her wrist, fearing he could have hurt here there.  
"It's alright, Max. I wasn't mad at you. I just want you to feel good", Liesel replied caressing his cheek.  
"I know, you're my standover girl. Thank you Liesel.. "  
In the darkness the girl bent down to kiss him on the lips.  
Then her hands wandered to his chest. Ever so gently she began to undo the buttons from his shirt and he allowed her fingers to feel his naked skin. Liesel's hands could sense his heart beating faster and his temperature rising. She pulled his shirt off and dropped it on the floor, leaving him half naked.  
In the darkness of their bedroom and with the curtain that allowed a little moonlight to sneak inside, Liesel could only distinguish his silhouette. She rested her hands on his shoulders and bent down to approach Max's lips one more time. It was a long kiss. Then the girls hands touched the man's chest, his arms, and then they slowly wandered from his neck down his back.  
They stopped. The tips of her fingers had sensed the bulks on his skin.  
Before Max could stop her, Liesel had reached over to the lamp and switched on the light.  
"No, Liesel!" he cried and he tried to cover his body with his hands.  
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph!" Liesel felt like the air had been stolen from her lungs.  
She saw a multitude of large scars all over his back. There was barely an inch free of them. All markings were clearly left behind by whips. The one closer to his neck was deeper than the others. Munich street, 1943.  
His chest had been spared, but his arms showed black bruises where needles had entered his flesh repeatedly.  
Max looked only to the floor, ashamed that Liesel had to see him like this.  
He fought to contain the river of tears that threatened to stream down his face.  
Liesel felt her heart break apart and this time she was pretty sure the pieces could not be put back together again.  
She had wanted to make love to him and instead she had made him cry.

Liesel took the blanket and pulled it around Max's back to make him feel better. Then she kneeled in front of him so that she could look into his crying eyes. She held both his hands.  
"Max", she said and her own eyes had surrendered to the tears, "It's alright Max..." she cried and her body was shaking as she cried so hard like she hadn't done in years.  
"Liesel...", said Max with a voice broken by the uncontrolable sobs. He had expected her to scare off, sure that after seeing his torn body she would never again want to touch him, but there she was. He kissed her hands "L- Liesel...What do you see in me?".

And Liesel...oh dear Lord, Liesel...she knew when words were not needed. She did the only thing that made sense to her that moment. She stood up, she lifted Max's face, wiping the salty water from his cheeks and took a step back. Her hands reached to the zipper of her dress and opened it. She pulled the fabric down her shoulders and the dress fell to the floor, leaving her only in underwear.  
A scar thick and deep crossed from the bottom of Liesel's neck all the way through her chest. It was the signature of a whipping, one that she had taken trying to protect Max the day he was marched to Dachau.

Max was wordless at the sight of it. He had not forgotten the beating Liesel had endured that day, but for some reason he had never thought of the scar that it would leave behind.  
"I'm so sorry for that Liesel...", he said feeling terribly guilty.  
"Do you still think I'm beautiful?", the girl asked.  
Max almost had to laugh at that silly question "Of course Liesel. You are always beautiful to me..."  
"So are you", she said, cupping his face with her hands "and today you are more beautiful to me, than you will ever be".  
Liesel crouched down and kissed Max's bruises on his forearms, his tattooed number, his still wet cheeks.  
Max looked at her disbelieving what he saw. Her body was a piece of art to him. Every inch of her was pure beauty. He felt himseld calming down as they both hugged each other very tight.  
They felt their naked skins colliding, their hearts beating louder than ever and they forgot why they were crying.  
Liesel undid Max's belt, he slid down his trousers, and they pulled off what little clothes was left on their bodies.  
Every move was gentle and careful, like each one waited for the others approval. Liesel felt Max's weight on top of her, his skin was feverish against her touch. He breathed her in and kissed every inch of her body. Their hips met, their legs entangled and they were as close as two human beings could ever get. They were one, the Book Thief ans the Sky Stealer, the Jewish Fist Fighter and the Word Shaker, the Sleeper and the Standover Girl...

Max rolled aside, sweaty and exhausted. Liesel smiled.  
In all of her fantasies about this moment, she had never pictured it the way it ultimately happened. But most things in life do not go as planned, and yet beauty can result out of the unluckiest circumstances.  
A question still hung in the air.  
Liesel Memminger looked into Max Vandenburg's eyes  
"I see in you a spot of bright blue in midst of a stormy sky and the only certainty when everything else is uncertain."


End file.
